


Not Another Evil King

by Rachello344



Series: "Not Another" Pliroy Fic [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Background Victuuri - Freeform, Courtship, Dancing, Evil Ex Otabek, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Onesided Otayuri, Royalty AU, This is not an Otabek Appreciation Fic, duels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachello344/pseuds/Rachello344
Summary: Yuri, as his grandfather's heir, needs to get married to secure an alliance for their kingdom.  The best choice for the match is none other than a neighboring king, Jean-Jacques Leroy.  But after having his heart broken once, Yuri isn't exactly ready to be married.  There was probably something wrong with the man in question; he just had to find some proof and call the marriage off.





	Not Another Evil King

**Author's Note:**

> This was started as a prompt fill for tumblr user Hazel-Abyss, but it very quickly developed a life of its own. I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> ETA: As a disclaimer, although I don't think this will come as a surprise to anyone paying attention, I do not like Otabek. Canon, fanon, whatever. I won't go into it, but while I'm careful to keep my characterizations internally consistent, I've gotten hate for how I write him. So if you do like him, be warned: I hate him. There's no harm in finding another fic that treats him better than I do. I won't be upset.

“No, absolutely not,” Prince Yuri said, his scowl deep and his arms crossed.  “I will not marry him.”

King Nikolai's advisors all groaned and made aborted gestures, but his grandfather simply raised a hand, calling for silence.  Everyone obeyed at once.  “Yura, I understand how you feel, but I’m afraid there is very little either of us can do.”  He sighed.  “We are too small a kingdom to turn down such a beneficial union.  Without their support, we will not last long in the coming years.”

Yuri looked away, squeezing his biceps and clenching his jaw.  “If you'd let us fight, we could—“

“Yura, no,” Nikolai said.  His voice was firm, falling just shy of sharp.  “You know exactly why we cannot go to war.”

Yuri looked down, unable to meet his eyes.  Of course he knew.  “Grandfather, I…  I don’t want to leave you.”

The advisors hastily excused themselves, sensing that they were no longer needed.  Yuri chanced a glance at Nikolai.  He was sitting on the room’s love seat; he patted the spot next to him.  Yuri sat quickly, leaning closer when his grandfather’s arm settled across his shoulders.

“Did you know, Yura, your mother and father were an arranged marriage?  Not to mention, my own beloved, may she rest in peace, was introduced to me to form an alliance.”  He smiled down at Yuri, endlessly gentle.  “It is rather sooner than I expected, but I always intended to find someone I trust to care for you after I'm gone.”

“Grandfather, don't—” Yuri cut himself off, wide eyed.  “What about you?  Who will care for you if I leave here?”

His grandfather stroked his hand over Yuri's hair.  “Oh, Yura,” he hugged him close, kissing the top of his head.  Nikolai sighed.  “Jean-Jacques will visit us next week.  He wishes to meet you before any decisions are made.  If it is something you cannot bring yourself to do, I will try to negotiate something else with him, but I think this is what is best for all of us and our kingdoms.  He is a charming young man and a great king, despite his age.  Give him a chance.  For me?”

Yuri pressed his face to his grandfather’s chest, eyes squeezed shut.  Jean-Jacques was probably over 30 and a philanderer.  He probably smelled worse than the stables.  “I will only promise to try.  For you.  If he’s horrible, I won’t marry him.”

“Very well, Yura, very well.”

 

* * *

 

King Jean-Jacques Leroy—“J.J.,” he kept insisting—was not 30; he was about four years Yuri’s senior, barely 22.  He didn’t seem to smell badly, though Yuri had yet to get close enough to check, and he was rather unfairly handsome.  His shoulders were broad, and he smiled easily and often.

Yuri wasn't yet sure about the philandering, but Leroy had yet to pursue any of the maids or stable hands, and anyone who spent time near him or with him left thoroughly charmed.  Yuri was not one of them.

“Prince Yuri, I’m glad I caught you!”  Leroy beamed widely.  Yuri scowled.  He’d been avoiding him for hours, but to no avail.  Yuri suspected the maids of informing on his whereabouts.  Traitors.  “I wondered if you might show me some of your favorite places in the castle.”

“I’d rather not,” Yuri said shortly.  “You can find your own—or better yet, return to your own castle.  I’m sure it’s much bigger and grander than ours.”  Yuri turned his face away.

One of his suitors, he was unsure now _which_ , had intimated that Yuri would be much happier in his _grand estate_ with _sprawling gardens_ , _far_ better than anything such a small estate could manage.  What was his name again?  Medi-something.

“Bigger, maybe,” Leroy agreed.  His sober tone caught Yuri’s attention.  “Colder, too, I think, though we do try to keep it feeling homey.  Yuri, have I offended you in some way?  Please tell me if I’ve misstepped and I’ll apologize at once and ensure it never happens again.  I promise.”

Yuri looked away from his painfully earnest expression.  Medi-whatever had never noticed Yuri’s moods, let alone any other feelings.  He could take a small risk.  His grandfather thought this man was reasonable.  Yuri turned to face him.  “I will be frank with you, Jean-Jacques.  I do not wish to be married.  My grandfather may think otherwise, but he still needs me here, and I won’t leave him.  He’s family.”

Leroy blinked once, surprised.  “Is that the only thing you object to?  Being unable to stay with your grandfather?”

“It’s the only thing I _can_ object to,” Yuri said, frowning.  “Some things are out of my hands, but this, at least, I can hold on to.”

Leroy touched his chin, gaze going distant.  “If I can find a way for you to be married to me and still see your grandfather regularly, will you at least give me a chance?”

Yuri snorted.  Like that was going to happen.  “Sure, if you can manage that, I’ll cooperate.”

Leroy beamed.  “In that case, I will see you at dinner tonight.”  He bowed.  “I wish you a pleasant afternoon.”

Yuri bowed in return, bemused but glad to have the rest of the afternoon to himself.

 

* * *

 

Not that that lasted very long.  No more than a few hours later, Leroy threw open the doors to Yuri’s preferred sitting room.  “I’ve found a solution,” Leroy exclaimed.  Yuri wrinkled his nose.  Foregoing a greeting was terribly bad manners.  Not that Yuri bothered with greetings very often, but a suitor should at least put forth _some_ effort.

“Good afternoon,” Yuri said, frowning and closing his book.  “A solution for what?”

“It would be—is—expected that the representative of a country be well acquainted with his people’s concerns, meaning it would be mutually beneficial if you were to frequently return here.  For information gathering.”  Leroy grinned.  “You would likely spend about half the year here overall—at least until things stabilize politically—and that could easily take _years_.”

“My grandfather agreed to this?  And his advisors?”  Yuri smothered his hope, but it caught in his chest, squeezing his lungs until he was breathless.  That was much better than most men would think to allow for their intended spouse—or at least none of the men who had courted Yuri seemed inclined to entertain such a ‘childish whim.’  His best prospect said that one, completely in earnest.  Piece of shit Duke of Fucking Up Relationships.

“They did.”  Leroy looked pleased with himself.  Yuri did _not_ think he deserved the expression.  “Your grandfather seemed happy with the idea.”

 _He would_ , Yuri thought.  This greatly increased Leroy’s chances, more than anything else he could have done.  Yuri looked down at his hands, sighing.  “Why are you doing all this?” he asked.  “Why go to all the trouble?”  He regretted it the second the words left his lips, but it was too late to take them back.  He winced and waited for Leroy to change his mind, proving his pessimistic thoughts right.  There was always a catch.  He wasn’t the kind of person who got to meet Prince Charming at the ball.

“Why…?”  Leroy tilted his head, apparently confused.  Yuri tried very hard not to roll his eyes.  “Ensuring the future happiness of a man I’d like to marry is hardly trouble, Yuri.  Anything I can do to make you happy, I’d like to.”

Yuri looked up at him, taking in the sincerity and the warmth of his smile.  _Fuck._   “How long until dinner?”

“How long until,” Leroy trailed off, thinking.  “An hour, perhaps?”

Yuri stood.  _Damn it all_.  “You’ve already seen my preferred sitting room,” he said, gesturing around them.  He felt vaguely annoyed, although he wasn’t sure if it was with Leroy or himself.  “We have enough time to walk around my favorite part of the gardens.”

Realization dawned slowly on Leroy's face, his smile a sunrise.  “It would be my pleasure, Yuri.”

Yuri looked away.

The walk to the gardens was a little uncomfortable, though Leroy hardly seemed to notice, delighted as he was.  His steps were practically fucking _bouncing_.  Yuri, on the other hand, didn’t know how to talk to him, and it showed.  He kept fumbling for responses, but Leroy seemed perfectly content, the bastard, chatting with apparent ease, unconcerned with Yuri’s awkward responses.  Yuri didn’t know how to feel about that yet.  Annoyed, probably.

But then they were finally in the garden; Yuri felt himself relax.  “It’s this way,” he said, leading Leroy toward the back, weaving through rows of flowers.  The last man he’d brought to the garden made that horrible remark about how his was much larger and obviously _better_.  _Medici_ , he remembered.  He never took Medici past the hedge maze.

He took Leroy past the maze to the garden itself, well maintained and beautiful.  Their path was slow and thoughtful— _stalling_ , Yuri acknowledged to himself.  Showing Leroy the main garden was much less stressful.  Roses and lilies and as many flowers as Yuri could name, water features when the need rose, benches and bird feeders, statues.  Leroy seemed appreciative, his smile gentle now, and almost pleasant to look at.

The main garden was not Yuri’s favorite place, though he liked it very much.

Tucked away behind the roses, effectively outside the garden itself, were his mother's wildflowers.  She’d planted several as a girl, intending them to spread out into the grasses behind the garden.  She watched over them as they grew and flourished, melding seamlessly into the hills behind the estate.

After her death, Yuri had taken to spending his spare time there, surrounded by the flowers she loved so much, tending to them when necessary.  They were all different colors and all different kinds, native breeds only.

“Here it is,” Yuri said quietly.  Leroy looked appropriately thoughtful as he took it all in.  He made an appreciative noise as he turned in place, careful of where he stepped.  Yuri bit his lip, unaccountably nervous.

“This is beautiful.  Who made this?”  His smile was something softer than his usual grins.  Yuri felt something in his chest unclench.

“My mother,” Yuri admitted.  Leroy turned to face him, his expression shifting to something almost sad.  Somehow, Yuri didn’t think he pitied him.

“Do you miss her?”

Yuri startled a little, unused to being asked so directly.  Most people avoided the subject as soon as it arose.  “Sometimes.  I was young when she died, so I don’t remember her very well.  Grandfather tells me stories when I ask.”  The truth seemed to tumble out of him, and he was still too surprised to stop himself.

Yuri shoved his hands in his pockets.  Maybe this was a bad idea.  He should have taken him to the training grounds.

“Thank you,” Leroy rested his hand on Yuri's shoulder, “for sharing this with me.  I know you didn’t want to.”

Yuri kept his face turned.  “Don’t get used to it, Leroy.  I still don’t like you, but—well, I appreciate what you did.  For me.  And I keep my promises.  That’s all."

“I’m still grateful.”  Leroy sounded like he was smiling brightly once more.  “Well then, shall we get ready for dinner?”

“We may as well,” Yuri said.  Leroy’s smile was like sunshine.  He offered his arm to Yuri, but Yuri shook his head once.  They weren’t there yet.  Absolutely not.

From then on, every time they went anywhere together, Leroy first offered his arm.  He never made a fuss when Yuri inevitably refused, but he _always_ offered.  He pulled out his seat at lunch and dinner—at breakfast too, at first, but Yuri was _not_ a morning person.

Yuri’s grandfather was concerned that such an ungentlemanly display would bother King Leroy, but Leroy never seemed particularly upset.  He only chuckled once and admitted that his younger sister was cranky in the mornings, too.

Just because he wasn’t bothered when Yuri was rude did _not_ mean that Yuri was going to just blindly accept his hand.  He probably had some kind of horrible secret buried deep down.  Perhaps he was actually obscenely possessive and jealous.  Maybe he was secretly violent.  Yuri still wasn’t convinced he wasn’t a philanderer.

Yuri was contemplating how best to draw out his worst qualities without being too obvious about it when one of the servants rushed into his sitting room, eyes wild.

“Mikael?”  Yuri sat up.  “What’s wrong?”

“Lord Altin is here to see you.”

Yuri’s blood ran cold.  _Fuck_.  “Thank you.  How much time do I have?”

“A few minutes, maybe.  I believe he is seeing to his carriage.”  The young man rocked on his feet.  “Shall I fetch someone for you?”

Yuri bit his lip.  The fastest way to get rid of him _and_ avoid having a ‘long overdue conversation’ about their ‘relationship’ was…  _Fuck_ , why did he have to show his face here again?  Hadn’t he done enough damage?

Someone knocked at the edge of the door frame.  “Afternoon, Yuri,” Leroy said, voice upbeat and easy.  Yuri frowned at him, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip.  “Is everything alright?”

“Unfortunately, I need you,” Yuri said.  “That will be all, Mikael.  I should be able to handle this.  Thank you.”  The man nodded and slipped past Leroy with a hurried bow.

“You need me?” Leroy asked, eyebrows raised.  “For what?”

Yuri sighed.  “Well, you are currently courting me, aren’t you?”

“I suppose you could call it that,” Leroy agreed, bemused.

“A… previous suitor has arrived to see me.  I need to be otherwise occupied.”  Yuri crossed his arms, considering his reflection in the mirror above the fireplace.  He fixed his hair and straightened his clothes.  Unfortunately there would be no time to change.  “We can go into town.  He hates spending time in public unnecessarily, so he won’t follow.”

Leroy seemed hesitant, but nodded slowly.  “So, I’m taking you out on a date in town so that you can avoid talking to a prior suitor?”

“That’s right.”

“Is he that horrible, or were the two of you…?” Leroy frowned.  “If you already have feelings for someone else, Yuri, please tell me now.  I,” he looked down, “I won’t get in the way of a prior attachment.”

Yuri groaned.  Of course he would be the bigger man.  _Damn it._   “There’s nothing between the two of us anymore.  I used to think…”  Yuri shook his head.  If he thought too hard about it, he might break down again, and then he wouldn’t look perfect when he faced that bastard again.  “It doesn’t matter.  We’re not together anymore.”

Not after everything Otabek had said and done on his way out the door, not after he broke his heart, and not when his current suitor was a better prospect overall.  He wasn’t definitely going to agree to the arrangement or anything, but he could admit (to himself) that Leroy was a good man.  Or at least, Yuri was still looking for his flaws, even if jealousy wasn’t one of them.  Yuri shook off the thought before he started blushing; Leroy was smiling again.  He offered his arm.

“Well then, my prince, shall we?  I believe I’m to take you into town this afternoon.”

Yuri wanted roll his eyes and refuse his arm, but for this to work, he’d need Be—Lord Altin to believe there was something between Yuri and Leroy, more than just a mutually beneficial political arrangement.  He needed it to be convincing.  He’d never accepted anyone’s arm before, but he supposed it had to happen eventually.

Hesitant and a little awkward, Yuri tucked his arm under Leroy’s, his hand resting in the crook of his elbow as he’d seen other couples do.  Leroy looked startled, but the expression quickly gave way to a broader grin.  He helped adjust their arms until everything felt more comfortable and then led the way out the door and down the hall.

It was weird holding someone’s arm, but Leroy was warm and solid at his side, grounding.  Yuri let himself lean a little closer.  He wasn’t enjoying it; he was just making it look more realistic.

Too soon they were in the foyer, and sure enough, Otabek Altin was standing to the side, speaking with quiet emphasis to one of the estate’s servants.

Leroy made a noise beside him.  Yuri couldn’t recognize it, but it didn’t sound like anything good.  “Lord Altin?  What a surprise!”

Lord Altin looked up, taking everything in at a glance.  “Prince Leroy—or is it King, now?”

“It is.  You know my father’s health has been poor of late.  My coronation was about a year ago.  I was sad to see you were unable to attend.”  Leroy smiled, but it didn’t seem as genuine or as warm as usual.  “I understand you were probably busy.  You always are, aren’t you?  Actually, are you sure you have time to be here?  Don’t you have somewhere else to be?  After all, I’m here.”

“I do have somewhere to be, actually.  I’m here to see Yura.”

Yuri flinched at the nickname.  “Yuri,” he corrected.  “And that’s strange because I have plans already.  You should probably go home.  I’m likely to be too busy to see you for quite some time, after all.”

“Busy?  With Leroy?” Otabek raised an eyebrow, disbelieving.  He glanced down at their arms, before meeting Yuri’s eyes again.  “What could a neighboring king possibly want with you?”

Yuri scowled at the insult.  “I’ll have you know, J.J. is my fiancé.”  Leroy straightened up beside him.  Looking between the two men now, Yuri smirked.  Leroy was taller, more handsome, easy-going, and carried himself with confidence and a presence that couldn’t be ignored.  Yuri couldn’t have chosen someone better to drive home how much better off he was now.

He let his gaze linger on Leroy before he settled back against his arm, casting a cursory glance over Otabek.  He made sure to look particularly unimpressed.  Otabek’s fist clenched at his side.  Yuri stifled his smirk.

“Did you tell him that you’ve already made an offer to someone else?” Otabek asked, eyes sharp.

“What does it matter when the offer was so coldly rejected?” Yuri asked in return, practically spitting each word.  “I owe you nothing, Lord Altin.  I don’t know why you bothered to come back here.  I thought it was clear that the offer no longer stands.”

“You really expect me to believe you’re planning on marrying _him_?”  Otabek snorted.  “Whenever I wrote to you about him, you always said you thought he was a cad and a philanderer.  Or did you forget?”

Leroy flinched.

They went to school together?  No, he needed to stay focused.  Yuri scoffed, crossing his arms.  “I don’t need to fucking justify myself to you.  People are allowed to change their minds.”

“And I’ve changed mine.  I know you better than anyone, Yura.  Who is a better match for you than me?  Who else could actually be happy marrying you?”

Yuri flinched, his breath catching.  He was not going to cry in front of Otabek Altin.  He was _not._   He struggled to find something to say, anything to counter him, but he fell short, too caught up on the hurt he felt.

“I could,” Leroy said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.  “As fun as this is, Yuri and I have a date to get to.”  Leroy placed his other hand over Yuri’s arm, squeezing once.  Yuri couldn’t help but feel reassured.  He wasn’t alone, not right now.  “If you’ll excuse us, Lord Altin.”

Leroy kept his hand in place until they were outside, away from the door.  He quickly shoved both hands in his pockets, eyes downcast.

 “I didn’t realize that _Altin_ was your prior suitor.”  Yuri couldn’t read his face or tone at all.  “If you think you could be happy with him, I won’t get in the way.  I’ve known about how much he loves his boyfriend for as long as I’ve known him, although I didn’t realize it was you.”

“What?”  Boyfriend?  When Otabek was off at school?

“We went to school together, although we were never friends.  And I’m not…  You can consider the engagement off.  Like I said, I won’t get in the way of a prior attachment, and you clearly still have feelings for him.”  Leroy sighed, looking away.  “If your goal was to make him jealous, I think you succeeded, but I can lay low for the next few hours if you want.  You can pretend we went on a date like we said, I won’t stop you.”

“What?  Leroy, what are you talking about?”  Yuri frowned, trying to see his face.  “Are you sick or something?”

Leroy just shook his head.

 “What part of that looked like love to you?”  He clenched his fists at his side.  “He broke my heart, Leroy.  He told me I was an unsuitable match, that my temper and my language made me a bad fit for him, prince or no, and that the only way we could be together was—”  He shook his head.  He wasn’t going to say it; it pissed him off too much.  “And now he comes back, mind changed, and fucking talks to me like that?  And you think I’d take him back?  Fuck no!”

Leroy turned to face him, hesitant.  “You… don’t want him back?”

“Of course not.  I was trying to show off how great I was doing without him, not make him _jealous_.  Or well, I did want him to be jealous, but only so I could turn him down!”  Yuri ran his hands through his hair.  “ _Fuck_ , Leroy, I told you it was over between us, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but—”

“Have I ever bothered lying to you?”

“No,” Leroy said, “you always told me there was no point in lying to someone you don’t like.”

“Exactly.  I don’t lie to people I don’t hate, either.”  Yuri looked away.  “Anyway, the only reason I can think of to call off the engagement is if I decide you’re insufferable or if you change your mind about me. I haven’t made up my mind yet, and you just said you thought you could be happy with me, so as far as I’m concerned the arrangement is still on.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve called me insufferable to my face at least nine times in the past three days,” Leroy countered.  He didn’t sound as blank as he did before, though.  He sounded almost amused.

“That’s different, and you know it.”

Leroy smiled at him.  “I do.  I also know that you’ve gotten more comfortable with me.  You’ve never cursed in front of me before.”

Yuri froze.  _Fuck_.  He’d been trying not to, but in dealing with Otabek, he’d completely forgotten.  “Damn it,” Yuri finally sighed.  “I’d been doing so well, too.  Grandfather and his advisors wanted me to be on my best behavior.”

“As long as you can keep from cursing during meetings—which you obviously can—I don’t see why you cursing in private should be a problem,” Leroy said easily.

“So, are we—we’re good?  You’re not going to do anything ridiculous and unnecessary?  You weren’t lying about what you said before?” Yuri asked.

“I think we could be very happy together, Yuri.  I wasn’t lying about that.  And I won’t end the arrangement prematurely,” he agreed, smiling.  “Now, I’m going to take you out properly.  We’ll make a day of it.”  He shrugged his shoulders back.  “It feels like the best way forward—unless you’d rather stay around here?”

“Absolutely not.  Let’s go.”  Yuri caught the attention of a nearby stable hand.  “We need two horses.  And could you send word to my grandfather that we’ll be eating dinner in town tonight?”

The boy’s face lit up.  “Gladly, Your Highness.  Consider it done!”  He hurried off, arranging for another hand to get the horses while he ran off with the message.  His grandfather was going to be _thrilled._

“You’re okay with missing dinner?” Leroy asked.  “Your grandfather will be alright with it?”

“Yes,” Yuri said simply.  Leroy seemed like he was going to ask for clarification, but eventually shook his head with a small smile, relaxing at Yuri’s side.  The horses were quickly prepared and then they were on their way.  By horse, the ride to town was only about fifteen minutes; with Leroy in a better mood, the time went by quickly as he chatted about the wildlife, the road, the town.

Yuri showed Leroy around the main thoroughfare, periodically introducing him to the shopkeepers he knew.  They wandered aimlessly for a while, mostly letting silence hang comfortably between them.  It was… nice, weirdly.  Yuri had never really enjoyed spending time with Leroy before, but Yuri didn’t dislike this.

He hated that he didn’t hate it.  Fuck, he was trying to get out of this stupid arrangement and he’d just told Leroy not to end it.  Something must be wrong with him.

 

* * *

 

When they got back to the castle, Otabek was waiting in the first sitting room.  Yuri frowned; Leroy’s hand settled on his lower back, steadying and warm.

“Do you want me to stay?” Leroy asked, voice soft.

Yuri sighed and shook his head.  “I should settle this myself, but thanks.”

Otabek was looking at them.  Leroy leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple.  “Good night, and good luck.  I’ll stay awake a while in case you need me for anything or even just want to talk.”

Yuri nodded and watched him go, more than a little flustered but trying not to show it.  He’d never done anything like _that_ before, not even in private.  It was probably because Otabek was watching, but _still_.

Yuri waited until Leroy was down the hall before turning back to face Otabek, walking slowly into the room.

“ _Leroy_ , really?” Otabek finally said.  “You think he’s better than me?”

Yuri crossed his arms.  “I think you had a chance, and you blew it.  He hasn’t.  It’s as simple as that.”

Otabek snorted.  “You must have lowered your standards.  That man is a waste of oxygen.”

Yuri’s ears registered the sound of a slap before he realized he’d moved at all.  His hand stung, and Otabek’s cheek was flooding with color.  Yuri looked down at his palm; it was red, too.  He flexed his fingers.

“You slapped me.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You slapped me for his sake?”

“His and mine.”  Yuri met his eyes, resolute.  “You can sleep here tonight, but I want you gone first thing tomorrow.”

“How am I supposed to—”

“I don’t care,” Yuri interrupted.  “You broke my heart, and you keep treating me like I’m worthless, and I won’t fucking stand for it.  I’m going to bed.  I better not see you tomorrow.”

“You’ll never be happy with him.  You’ll always compare him to me.”

“Good night, Lord Altin.”

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Otabek was gone.  His grandfather gave him a curious look, but thankfully said nothing.  Leroy smiled at him.

 

* * *

 

“I saw the younger Lord Altin left in something of a hurry this morning,” Yuri’s grandfather noted absently, turning the page in his book.  It was only a matter of time, Yuri thought with a sigh.  A few hours was longer than he was expecting, really.  At least he and his grandfather were alone for the time being.  “Do you know anything about that?”

“I sent him away.”  Yuri put his own book down, resigning himself to his fate.  “I don’t even know why he came here in the first place.”

“Perhaps he had some regrets.”  His grandfather finally looked up, leveling him with a seemingly disinterested gaze.  “Do you?”

Yuri wrinkled his nose.  “Absolutely not.  That jerk turned me down!  Why would I take him back when I…”  Yuri’s face felt hot.  He couldn’t quite make himself finish the thought, especially not aloud.  “Anyway, I’m already being courted, more or less.  Until I’ve made up my mind about King Leroy, I have no reason to even think about a lord who’s already given me an answer.”

Nikolai smiled.  “Well said.  In that case, I think you should seek out that suitor of yours.  I believe he’ll want to see you after everything that happened yesterday, hm?”

Yuri sighed, but couldn’t find it in him to argue.  “Yes, Grandfather.”  He wasn’t going to admit it to anyone, no matter what they did to him, but he was growing to enjoy his time with Leroy.  Not much, though.  Only a little.

Leroy was willing to let him go if that was what he wanted.  He wasn’t going to keep Yuri chained to him.  He was even happy to let him spend part of the year with his grandfather when they— _if_ they married.  Yuri bit his lip as he walked the corridors.

His only flaw at this point was how quickly he was willing to give up on their… not _relationship_ —arrangement, maybe.  That seemed suitably businesslike, political even.

Come to think of it, Yuri wasn’t actually sure where Leroy spent most of his time.  Usually he came to Yuri, not the other way around.  He bit his lip as he wandered, glancing into rooms as he passed by them.  Asking for help would be as good as admitting that he was _interested_ in Leroy—that he actually _wanted_ to see him—and he couldn’t have that, not when he hadn’t made his mind up yet.

As he was glancing down the guest wing for any closed doors, Mikael caught his eye.  Before he could hurry away, the man perked up and made a beeline for him.

“Prince Yuri, good afternoon.  Were you looking for King Leroy?” he asked, smiling.  Yuri’s lips pressed flat.  “Last I saw him, he was in the library writing letters.  He might still be there.”

“I don’t recall asking after him,” Yuri said stiffly.

Mikael smiled wider.  “My mistake, sir.  I best be getting back to work.  Have a lovely day, sir.”  He bowed deeply, backing into one of the guest rooms, presumably to continue cleaning.  Once the door shut behind him, Yuri sighed.

At least Mikael was letting him keep his plausible deniability intact.

The library mostly held old treaties and archives, history books and maps, but it was one of the best places to work quietly without being disturbed.  Yuri looked around, eyes skimming over the stacks in search of broad shoulders and black hair.  He wandered a little further in, glancing down each row as he passed it.  He was so focused on his task, he didn’t notice someone coming down the next aisle.

When they collided, papers flew everywhere as large hands came to rest on his forearms, steadying him.  Yuri looked up from his own hands, pressed to a firm chest.  Leroy’s bemused look didn’t even come as a surprise.  Of course the person he ran into was Leroy.

For a beat too long, Yuri forgot to say anything at all, simply looking up at Leroy and trying to read the changes in his expression.  He was still leaning into him for support, and Leroy’s hands were still holding his arms, endlessly gentle and almost ridiculously hot in the chilly air of the library.

“What a surprise, running into you here,” Leroy said.  His cheeks were a little red.  “Were you looking for a book?”

“Uh.”  Yuri took a step back, and Leroy dropped his arms.  He spoke quietly, almost under his breath.  “I was looking for you.”

“Me?” Leroy’s expression shifted from surprise to delight.  “Well, you’ve found me!  What can I do for you, my prince?”

Yuri rolled his eyes.  “I wanted to make up for yesterday, and… I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Leroy said, frowning.  He stooped to pick up his papers.  “If you say there’s nothing between you anymore, I’ll believe you.”

“No, I’ve seen where your mind jumps,” Yuri said, shaking his head.  “You’re self-sacrificing.  If he ever…  If he ever tried again, I wouldn’t want you assuming I want him, so you should know why it’s never going to happen.”

Leroy nodded, straightening up.  “Why don’t we sit down then?”

Yuri followed him to a small table in the corner.  It was cozy, quiet, and they were unlikely to be interrupted.  As soon as they were sitting, Yuri began.  “Lord Altin spent a lot of time here.  I was about fifteen, and he was nineteen.  He was my first friend from outside the castle, and I fell for him pretty quickly.  He was cool and interesting, and he never treated me like a child.”

Yuri sighed.  “I spent a lot of time flirting with him, looking back.  I was practically throwing myself at him, but he never seemed to notice.  Maybe he was trying to let me down gently.   I confessed to him sometime last year.”  The first day of spring, when the flowers started blooming again.  “When I asked him if he’d ever thought about marrying me, he told me that it could never happen.  The implication was that I wasn’t good enough for him.  And, with the way he spoke to me, I’m sure you can guess how it sounded.”

Leroy winced, reaching out to touch his hand where it rested on the table.  Yuri let him.

“And, well, I could never be with someone who rejected me so cruelly.”  Yuri looked down at his hand under Leroy’s.  “Maybe it was a misunderstanding, maybe he just phrased it badly, but he broke my heart.  I’m not exactly eager to return to that.  It’s been a year already, so I’ve more or less moved on.  It still hurts, but…”  Yuri shrugged.

Leroy nodded.  “He’s always hated me, so I can’t tell you if the phrasing was intended to be kind.  I don’t think he’s ever said a nice word to me.”  He rubbed his thumb over the back of Yuri’s hand.  “A friend of mine thought he had a crush on me our first year in school, but I wouldn’t have guessed it.  He certainly never gave me that impression.”

They both fell silent, commiserating.

After another few swipes of his thumb, Leroy nodded once.  “Well, that was pretty heavy.  Why don’t we go do something fun, hm?  What would you like to do today, Yuri?”  Leroy’s smile was warm, and his eyes were intent.  Coupled with the hand still on his, Yuri’s face rapidly grew warm.

He huffed, trying to pretend he wasn’t flustered.  “Well, _I_ don’t know!  I can’t always be the one to decide what we do, Leroy.  Pull your weight for a change!”

Leroy laughed.  “Alright, alright, let’s see…  Something I want to do…  Would you be willing to dance with me?”

Yuri reeled back, pulling his hands away.   “What?”

“Dance with me, Yuri.”  Leroy held his hand out.  “Your grandfather will be hosting a gala soon, anyway.  Won’t it be better to try dancing together where no one can see us mess up?”

“I don’t _mess up_ ,” Yuri said, nose wrinkled.  “Especially not with swordplay or _dancing_.  Do not insult me.”

Leroy held his hands up, placating.  “You may not mess up, but I may.  I dance well enough, but I don’t know which dances are in vogue in your court.  Won’t you teach me?”

Yuri looked away, doing his best to stifle the blush.  _Fuck_.  Agreeing too quickly, implying that he wanted to dance with Leroy, it was a step too far for him.  Doing Leroy the favor of teaching him a dance, on the other hand, that was well within reason.

“We will be required to have a chaperone, of course.”  He sighed.  “But I suppose I must.  We can’t have you making a fool of us both at the gala.”

Leroy laughed.  When they were both standing, he offered Yuri his arm.  “Shall we?”

Yuri huffed, but placed his hand in the crook of Leroy’s elbow.  He ignored the resultant grin, keeping his attention elsewhere.  The best chaperone for something like this was probably a servant, Yuri thought.  Someone who wasn’t close to him personally and wasn’t liable to tease him to his face.

Unfortunately, when they entered the dance studio, Lilia was working with several of the castle’s children, teaching them the waltzes they needed for the coming ball.  When she saw them at the door, her gaze sharpened at once.

“Prince Yuri, King Leroy,” she curtsied, the children rapidly following suit.  “To what do I owe this honor?”

Yuri tried not to wince.  Leroy smiled.  “I was just telling Yuri that I wasn’t sure I knew the steps to your waltzes; he was going to practice with me.”

Lilia raised a single imperious brow.  Yuri tried to copy the expression when he was younger, but he could never manage to lift only the one.  She looked between them, her expression shifting to amusement.  “Is that so?  Why don’t the two of you demonstrate for my class?  I’ll correct any missteps I see, and my children can see the dance properly.”

Leroy laughed, agreeing for them both readily, delighted of course.  _Fucking Leroy_.  Yuri huffed, annoyed in spite of himself.  He hadn’t been looking forward to dancing with him, and it didn’t matter if they had an audience.  It didn’t.  Yuri was just annoyed that Lilia was going to be correcting them; that was all.

“Very well,” Lilia said, clapping once.  “If you’ll both take position, I’ll have young Alexei begin the phonograph.”

Leroy stood taller, shoulders back, and swept them both forward.  Yuri found himself following suit, matching his posture by instinct.  Leroy settled his right hand at Yuri’s waist, taking his other hand in a firm grasp.  Yuri met his eyes, resting his left hand on Leroy’s shoulder.

Lilia circled them.  “You see, children?  Stand tall, eyes on your partner, and keep yourself in this position exactly.”

Yuri lost track of the rest of what she was saying; Leroy was smiling, small and almost secret.  He leaned in, ever so slightly.  The first notes of the waltz began to play, slow and gentle strings, easy and sweet.  Yuri watched J.J., waiting for the moment to begin, breath held.

When J.J. took a breath in, Yuri followed suit, and they swept into motion.  It had been some time since Yuri had taken anything but the lead in a dance, but J.J. was an excellent dancer and easy to follow.  His hands were warm and firm against his back and around his hand.  His shoulder was strong and steady, perfect to lean on.

The steps flowed easily, as J.J. led Yuri around the small practice room, turning periodically.  Yuri thought he was getting a feel for the space and for him as a partner.  Each turn took them close to the mirrored walls, but he always brought them back to the center.

Yuri could imagine how well J.J. must navigate crowded ballrooms.  His steps were so light; it must be a simple feat for him to weave between the other dancers without a single stumble.

As they were turning in another move toward center, J.J.’s smile turned mischievous.  “Shall we give them a little surprise, Yuri?” he asked, voice low and intimate between them.

Yuri wanted to be called ‘Yura,’ he realized.  _Fuck_.  “I’ll follow you,” he whispered back.

J.J. beamed, spinning Yuri out, before pulling him back in, twirling him under his arm and back into position.  Yuri could hear gasps from the children; he smirked up at J.J.  After another few beats, he did it again—spin out, twirl in, back to position.  Yuri tried not to notice, but each time he twirled back in, he ended up closer to J.J., nearly chest to chest now.  His heart was pounding, but his steps never faltered and his gaze never wavered.

Yuri kept expecting J.J. to say something, to start up a conversation, but he seemed content to circle the small dance floor, his eyes warm and intent on Yuri’s.  Periodically they could hear Lilia telling her class something about the dance, but mostly it was just the two of them and the music flowing smoothly between them.

Safe in J.J.’s arms, Yuri didn’t want the dance to end.

As the music neared its finale, J.J.’s expression turned a little wistful.  Even so, he winked at Yuri and lifted him off his feet into the next turn, before spinning him back out, and twirling him back in, holding them both still as the music drifted to a close.  Yuri was only vaguely aware of the class clapping, and Lilia praising them.

Yuri wanted to kiss J.J.

His face felt too warm, and he was sure J.J. could see exactly what he was thinking.  He needed to go.  This was a horrible mistake.

“Obviously you know how to dance,” Yuri said, voice low.  “And I’ve just remembered something I need to take care of.  If you’ll excuse me,” he pulled back, bowing.  “I’ll see you at dinner, J.J.”

Yuri was already out the door when he realized what he’d called him.  He picked up the pace, hurrying down the hall and down the stairs and out the door to the garden.  Only when he was in the very back with the wildflowers, having passed no one on his way, did he stop.

He took a deep breath in before yelling into the empty air, dropping to his knees in the grass.  How the hell had he let this happen?  He scrubbed his hands over his face.  He wasn’t supposed to _like_ him!  After all the effort he’d gone to get rid of him, after all the fuss he’d made, he couldn’t just _like him_.

He didn’t want to get married, he reminded himself.  He was going to find something wrong with Leroy and send him home.

So why did his chest hurt so badly at the thought?

 

* * *

 

Yuri jolted to his feet when he heard someone approaching.  The sun was going down; he was probably late for dinner.  Leroy was walking toward him, hands in his pockets and smile tentative.

“Good evening, Yuri,” he said.  “I don’t mean to intrude, but dinner is ready.”

“Did Grandfather send you?”  Yuri shifted uncomfortably.

Leroy shook his head.  “I saw you hadn’t come back yet, so I decided to look for you myself.  Are you feeling unwell?”

“A little, I suppose,” Yuri hedged, “but nothing too serious.  Nothing you need be concerned with.”

Leroy seemed hesitant, but nodded.  “Well, then, shall we?”  He offered his arm with a small smile.  Yuri shook his head once, leading the way out of the garden.  He couldn’t afford to be so careless.  Not anymore.

He didn’t look back, but he could tell that Leroy was disappointed.  Their walk to the dining room was silent.

 

* * *

 

The air between Yuri and Leroy was cold and tense over the following weeks.  Yuri spoke to Leroy only when spoken to.  He went where Leroy wanted, but did not contribute anything in particular.  Sometimes, he caught himself about to respond—something familiar and teasing and completely unacceptable—but he always managed to stop himself in time, keeping himself closed off.

Yuri did his best to ignore the confused and disappointed looks from Leroy and his grandfather.  It was better this way, he reminded himself.  He had already decided not to marry.  Nothing would change his mind now.  Trusting someone like that, it wasn’t safe.

Yuri’s grandfather and Leroy were chatting amicably, neither of them trying to include Yuri, effectively ignoring him, though he was sitting in the same room.  Thankfully, before Yuri could speak up and force them both to acknowledge him, the door behind him opened.

“Sirs, Lord Otabek Altin seeks an audience,” a servant announced.

Yuri stood, his book falling from his hands to the floor in his haste.  “What the—” his grandfather shot him a stern look, so he swallowed his curse.  “What in _heaven’s name_ does he think he’s doing coming back here?” Yuri hissed, scowling at the door.

“He thinks he’s going to challenge your Leroy to a duel for your hand,” Altin said from behind the servant.  “He also thinks he’s going to win.”  He smirked.

Yuri turned to look at Leroy, more than a little alarmed.  The last time Altin was here, he and Leroy had been on good terms.  How did he make it clear that he wanted Leroy to either find a way to send Altin away without dueling, or if that was impossible, accept the duel and win.

Fuck, but he wanted Leroy to _win_ , and Altin only barely played into it.

He bit his lip, watching Leroy closely, unsure if his wishes were clear.  Leroy’s face was worryingly blank.  And fuck, Leroy was prone to sacrificing himself if he thought Yuri would be happier with something else.

Leroy rose to his feet, smoothing out his pants.  “What are the terms?  How will we compete?”

“You accept?” Altin countered.

Leroy’s head rose slowly, but when he met Altin’s eyes, he nodded once, resolute.  “I do.  Though you have no claim to it, I will fight for Yuri’s hand.”

Yuri’s head spun; he took a sharp breath in.  Had he really forgotten to breathe?  Fuck, Leroy was actually going to fight for him?  He bit his lip hard enough to break the skin; he didn’t think he could apologize, but he owed Leroy for this.

“It will be done traditionally,” Nikolai announced, arms folded behind his back.  “You will duel to first blood only.”  He sighed.  “We will have the duel tomorrow afternoon, once you’ve both rested.  For now, I suppose I must tell the chef to prepare another table setting.”

With that, Nikolai excused himself, leaving Yuri in what was probably the most uncomfortable situation of his life, caught between his ex and… Leroy.

Altin looked like he was getting ready to say something, so Yuri crossed his arms.  “Dmitry, was it?” Yuri asked the servant.  When the man nodded, he continued, “Please show Lord Altin to one of the guest rooms.”

“Of course, sir; if you’ll follow me, Lord Altin?”

But Altin was still looking at him.  “You must know now, Yura; I have never stopped loving you.”

“I have.”  Yuri met Leroy’s eyes.  “You’re wasting your time, Otabek Altin.  I don’t love you anymore.”  He turned back to Altin.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to before dinner.”  He hesitated for only a moment, before offering over his shoulder, “J.J.?”

He nodded once, following him to the door.  Altin refused to move, so Yuri pushed past him, making a beeline for his own rooms, Leroy following quietly behind him.  Yuri wasn’t sure what stopped Altin from following them, but he was grateful.

When they were alone in Yuri’s room, Yuri felt whatever got him there leave him.  What was he going to say?  How could he possible explain himself to Leroy?

“So I’m J.J. again, now?” Leroy asked, voice soft.  “Or are you going to turn cold on me again once Altin leaves?”

Yuri flinched.  He deserved that.  “I… don’t know how to explain it,” Yuri muttered.  He sat down on the couch, his strength leaving him.  “I… panicked?”

Leroy sighed.  “Things were going so well between us.  I thought we were finally getting along.  What changed?  Did I do something?”

“You…  I don’t want to get married.  Not really,” he tried.  Leroy winced, looking away.  “No, no, let me finish.  It’s not—I don’t like the idea of being tied down forever.  This is a big decision, and I’m only eighteen!”  Yuri clenched his hands on his thighs.  The enormity of it all weighed heavily on his chest.  “It has very little to do with you.”

“You wanted to marry Altin,” Leroy said.  It almost sounded like a question.

“I did, but that was when I was stupid and in love.”  Yuri risked looking back up.  “I’ve only been in love once, and it ended badly.  It still fucking hurts, even now.”  Leroy’s gaze was intent and too much; Yuri looked down again.  “Can you blame me for panicking?”

Leroy sighed, sitting beside him with a cushion between them.  “What had you so scared?  I don’t think I understand the problem.”

Yuri hesitated.  He really did not want to explain this, but he didn’t want…  He needed…  “We were getting along _too_ well.  I—I didn’t hate you.”

“And that was scary?”

“I wasn’t fucking _scared_ ,” he muttered.  “But… yes.  That was why I fucking panicked, okay?”  Yuri hunched his shoulders.  “I…  I wanted you to…”  He shook his head.  He was not going to admit to that.

“Wanted me to what?” Leroy asked.  Yuri was stupid enough to look up, caught by the earnest hope in J.J.’s eyes.  Fuck, but they were so _blue._

“Call me Yura,” he answered.  His cheeks immediately flushed.  _Fuck fuck fuck_.

“That was what he called you, wasn’t it?” J.J. asked, brow furrowed.

Yuri huffed.  “He _did_ , but he doesn’t have permission anymore.  It’s my nickname.  My grandfather is the only one with permission right now.”  Yuri licked his lips.  “Grandfather and you.”

J.J. blushed, the color spreading lower, dipping beneath his collar.  “ _Oh_.”  He scooted a little closer, eyes wide.  “I can—I can do that.  You really want me to?”  Yuri’s breath caught in his throat, but he forced himself to nod.  “Was there… anything else you wanted me to do?”

Unbidden, Yuri’s eyes dropped to J.J.’s lips.  He stood up before J.J. could do more than look at him.  “You should—You need rest before you…”  He turned, frowning.  “You’re really sure about this?”

J.J. smiled.  Yuri’s lips parted in surprise; it had been over a week since he’d seen a proper smile from him.  He’d forgotten just how much they affected him.  “I’m more sure now than I was ten minutes ago.”  He stood, walking closer, backing Yuri into the wall.  “You like me, _Yura_ ,” he reminded him.  Yuri swallowed hard.  “You like me enough that it makes you nervous.”  He cupped Yuri’s cheek, endlessly gentle and warm.  “It will be my honor.”

“You’ll be careful, though, right?” Yuri breathed.  “He’s a skilled fencer and… well, to be honest, he’s prone to cheating, _especially_ when he wants to win.”  He pursed his lips.

J.J. raised his eyebrows.  “Well, that’s good to know.  I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for any funny business.  I trust you and your grandfather to help keep things clean.”  He sighed, smiling again, something wistful.  “Can you warn me next time you decide to give me the silent treatment?  It’s fine if you need to process, but I’d rather not get blindsided again.”

Yuri ducked his head, cheeks hot and chest tight with shame.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“Wow.”  His voice was light.  “I wasn’t expecting an apology, but thank you.  I’ll forgive you this time.  If it happens again, I might make you work for it a bit.”  Yuri looked up with a frown, but J.J. was smiling, his eyes bright and teasing.

Yuri laughed under his breath.  “See if I ever fucking apologize again, jerk.”

“Altin is a fool,” J.J. said, sounding almost awed.  He pushed a long strand of Yuri’s hair behind his ear; his fingertips trailed fire in their wake.  “When I win tomorrow, will you kiss me?”

“What?”

J.J. smirked.  “Think about it, eh?  After all, I am saving you from your big bad wolf,” he teased.

Yuri scoffed.  “Do I look like Red Riding Hood?”

J.J. looked him over, appraising.  Yuri suppressed a shiver.  “I don’t know about Little Red, but that would certainly be a good color on you.”

Yuri remembered a moment too late that the national colors of J.J.’s country included a bold red, the same color J.J. often wore.  Yuri floundered for a response.  Laughing softly, J.J. pressed a soft kiss against Yuri’s forehead.  Everything stopped.  Yuri blinked up at him owlishly.

“With that, I think I’ll leave you.”  J.J. took a step away.  Yuri almost tugged him back, missing the heat of him.  “Good night, Yura.  I’ll see you tomorrow, eh?”

Yuri nodded, words escaping him still.

J.J. opened the door.  “Good night, J.J.” Yuri finally managed.  As he closed the door behind him, J.J. laughed softly.  Yuri stared for a long time, his heart racing.  He pressed a shaking hand to his forehead, the skin still tingling.  _Fuck_.

 

* * *

 

Yuri strode into the sparring room with a confidence he didn’t feel, his chin held high and his steps unhesitating, no matter that he’d rather be just about anywhere else.  He thought longingly of the garden, taking focused breaths.

J.J. was already in the room, stretching without any apparent worry.  When he noticed Yuri, he winked.  Yuri flushed and turned sharply away, embarrassed.  His grandfather chuckled just behind him.

“It seems the two of you have worked everything out.”  His grandfather sat down in one of the provided chairs, gesturing for Yuri to sit in the other one.  Yuri slouched into it, ducking his head.  “I was worried when neither of you came to breakfast.”

Yuri sat up, alarmed.  “J.J. didn’t come to breakfast?”

His grandfather raised his eyebrows.  “You didn’t know?  He ate in his room, like you did.”  He hummed.  “And here I thought you were giving him pointers or wishing him luck.”

“Why would I?” Yuri looked away.  “He doesn’t need me cheering for him.  He’s going to win.”

“Of course he will.”  He patted Yuri’s hand, placating.  “I think he might appreciate your support anyway.”

Yuri grumbled under his breath.  He risked a look back at J.J.; he smiled at him instantly.  Yuri fidgeted in his seat, unsure if he should go to J.J. or wave him over, when J.J. made the decision for him, jogging over with that same sunshine smile.

“Prince Yuri,” J.J. bowed formally.  “Would you allow me the honor of fighting on your behalf?”

“What are you talking about, idiot?” Yuri scoffed.  “Of course you’re fighting for me.  And you better not lose.  I don’t want to have to step in and fight for you, you got that?”

J.J. laughed, unbothered.  “I’ll do my very best, Yura.  I promise.”

Yuri’s face felt hot under the knowing eyes of his grandfather and the warmth of J.J.’s gaze.  He turned his face away, biting his lip.  “Good luck, J.J.”  Yuri’s voice was soft enough that he thought maybe J.J. hadn’t heard him, but when he glanced back, J.J.’s lips were parted and his cheeks bright red.

Yuri blinked at him.  _Adorable._   Yuri’s fingers itched with the urge to touch him.  He curled them into fists so tight his nails bit crescents into his palms.

“Ah, Otabek has finally arrived,” King Nikolai noted blandly.

Yuri’s head whipped around, watching Altin walk into the room, followed closely by one of his servants.  His servant removed a sword with a wide hand guard from its case, handing it to Altin for inspection.  He turned the sword over in his hands, scrutinizing it before giving a firm nod.

King Nikolai rose.  “J.J., if you’ll choose a sword from the rack, we may begin when the both of you are ready.”

Yuri stood abruptly.  “I—”  He couldn’t quite finish his thought through his embarrassment, so he hurried over to the rack in question, checking through the swords for the right one.  As with all dueling swords, the tips were blunted to ensure a safe bout.  When he found it—one with a wide guard and an elegant blade—he checked the balance and the length before he turned it over in his hand, passing it to J.J. handle first.  “Try this one.”

J.J. smiled as he weighed the sword in his hand, shifting into his stance for a few practice thrusts.  Satisfied, he rose once more, stepping in close.  “Thank you, Yura.  It’s perfect.”

Yuri nodded.  “You better fucking win, Leroy,” he muttered.  “Otherwise, you won’t get your prize.”  J.J. looked surprised for only a moment before his expression shifted to understanding and then a smoldering look that Yuri didn’t have the fortitude to decipher.

J.J. took his hand, brushing his lips over the back.  “I’ll do you proud, Yura.”

Yuri nodded again, the movement jerky, and quickly returned to his seat, remaining on his feet.  The back of his hand tingled where J.J.’s lips had touched.  He pressed his thumb to the spot and shivered.

J.J. strode to the piste, finding his place behind his en-garde line.  King Nikolai stood on one side of the strip, Yuri took his place on the other.  He wouldn’t allow for any funny business.

Altin stood at his own line, watching Yuri intently.  Yuri refused to look at him.  King Nikolai looked between the men, waiting.

J.J. was the first to salute, holding his sword upright in front of his face, eyes on Altin.  Altin looked at him for long enough that it grew awkward.  Yuri almost thought he was going to refuse the salute, but at last he slowly raised his sword, eyes narrowed.  From there, they both saluted the king and Yuri in turn.

“The bout will be to three touches.  Are there any questions?”  Neither man spoke; J.J. gave a head shake.  “En garde,” Nikolai said.  J.J. and Altin shifted into their stance, feet at ninety degrees, and legs bent to the same angle.  Their backs were straight; their sword arm was held in a right angle, and their other arm folded neatly behind their backs.  “Ready?”

“Ready,” J.J. agreed smoothly, eyes forward.

“Ready.”  Altin cut a brief glance to Yuri and back.

“Play,” Nikolai called.  And with that, the men swept into motion.  Their steps were short but smooth, in and out of each other’s space, back and forth across the strip, sizing each other up.  And then, J.J. lunged, bringing his sword close to Altin’s boot.  Altin parried, hurrying backward before pressing into J.J.’s space, feinting at his chest before cutting toward his hand.

J.J. avoided his strike, beating his sword and pressing him back.  His sword struck Altin’s shoulder, the flexible blade bending with the force.

“Halt,” Nikolai called.  “Point, J.J.”  J.J. and Altin returned to their lines.  J.J. remained serious, but Altin was outright scowling now.  Yuri stifled his own feelings, watching closely.  There was something odd about the flash of Altin’s blade.  “Play.”

The bout continued.  Periodically, Nikolai called a halt to regroup before allowing play to resume.  Altin put out a constant barrage, heavy on his offense, but J.J.’s parries and ripostes were flawless.  Yuri wished Yakov were available to judge.  He thought the old guard captain (and Yuri’s tutor) would appreciate such elegant footwork.

“Halt,” Nikolai said after a particularly distracting flurry.  “Point, J.J.  The score is now 2-0.”

J.J. looked as stable and comfortable as ever, even with sweat glistening on his brow, even with his breath growing labored.  When Yuri looked at Altin, he froze.  Never in his life had he seen such a look of hatred and fury on anyone’s face.

Yuri swallowed with some difficulty.  The men returned to their lines once more, and his grandfather gave the signal to start.  J.J.’s movements were the same measured and graceful steps as ever, but Altin’s footwork was aggressive, almost sloppy with his passion. 

J.J. lunged forward, sword aimed at Altin’s shoulder.  Altin ducked in past the blade and, in what felt like slow motion, struck J.J. with his hand guard.  J.J. fell to the ground, his sword falling from his hand.

“Halt!” Yuri and his grandfather cried in unison.

Yuri dropped to his knees beside the strip, turning J.J.’s head carefully, examining his skull for any noticeable wounds.  He wasn’t bleeding, luckily, but he was unconscious.  Yuri clutched at his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut.  He was okay.  He would be fine.

“That was more than unsportsmanlike, Lord Altin,” Nikolai said, his voice low.  “You do yourself and your family dishonor.”

Yuri looked up at Altin, eyes finding his blade.  The way it glinted…  Yuri stood.  “Altin, give me your blade.”

“What?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Your blade.  It looks sharp.”  Yuri held out a hand.  “Give it to me at once.”  When Altin held the blade closer to his own chest, refusing to surrender it, Yuri knew he was right.  He stood, motioning to one of the servants in the room.  “Please take King Leroy to his room to recuperate.”  He turned to Altin’s servant, adjusting his gloves.  “You, give me your lord’s second sword.”

“What are you doing, Yura?” Altin demanded.

“The duel was interrupted by foul play,” Yuri said.  “I propose we finish the duel.  If you win, I won’t have you punished for your actions here.  Assaulting a king is no small matter, let alone assaulting my _fiancé_.  If I win, you will either face your punishment as decided by the courts, or agree to leave and never again show your face to me or King Leroy.”

“What are to be the terms of this duel?” Altin asked, frowning.

“First blood,” Yuri declared.  “Since you seem so intent on using sharpened blades.”

Altin paled, but couldn’t seem to decide the best course of action.  Yuri waited, clenching his fists at his side to keep from striking out, watching he and his servant exchange loaded looks.  Altin finally nodded once, and the second sword was placed carefully in Yuri’s hand.

Yuri took his position behind J.J.’s en-garde line.  Altin retook his own.

Nikolai sighed heavily.  “It seems I have no choice but to go along with this.  Very well.”  He stood up straighter.  “The bout will be to first blood.  En garde.”  Yuri immediately settled into position, eyes narrowed.  “Ready?”

“Ready,” Yuri said.

“Ready.”  Altin’s glare had vanished, replaced by a strange look Yuri decided not to bother decoding.

“Play.”

Yuri leapt into action, taking several quick steps into Altin’s space, lunging for his shoulder.  Altin parried in time, pressing Yuri back, but his aggression was gone now.  Yuri wrinkled his nose and pressed back forward.  Not taking him seriously would be Altin’s downfall.

They continued back and forth for some time, Altin’s steps far too careful.  There was something else.  Yuri wasn’t sure what it was, but the swords weren’t just sharp, or else Altin would be putting more effort into his offense.

What was he missing?  What else could he have done to a sword?

The answer came to him in the same moment that his blade struck true.  Blood stained Otabek Altin’s jacket at the shoulder.  _Poison_ , Yuri thought.  _He might have poisoned them._

“Halt.  Yuri wins,” Nikolai said.

Altin grew pale, sweat still clinging to his face from their bout.  His breathing grew more labored, rather than easing.  He dropped to his knee.

“It was fast acting, then,” Yuri said, watching him.  He felt numb.  “You would have killed him.  I wish I could have some pity for you, but this is what you would have done to the man I—” Yuri cut himself off, fist clenching around the grip.  “I believe this to be a just punishment.”

King Nikolai motioned for servants to approach.  “See about disposing of these safely.  I believe they should both be melted down.  Place them back in their case and take them to the smith.”  With the swords gone, Nikolai frowned at Altin.  “You endangered my only living heir and his fiancé.  The punishment for both those crimes is death.”

Altin closed his eyes.  “I understand,” he croaked.

Yuri watched him, morbidly curious about what kind of poison had been on the blade.  His grandfather seemed to understand his intention and didn’t bother trying to send him away.  The first sign was the wet rattle of Altin’s breath as he struggled to breathe.  His face grew red, darkening to an ugly purple.  He clutched at his neck, coughing and wheezing for breath.

Altin doubled over, his nose bleeding.  He began to convulse violently, foam gathering at the corner of his lips before overflowing.  With a final rattling breath, his seizure ended along with his life.  Yuri breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth.

His grandfather laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing once.  “I will deal with all of this.  Go.  We’ll discuss everything later.  For now, why don’t you watch over J.J.?”

Yuri nodded mutely.  When his grandfather pressed him toward the door, he went willingly.  For all his words and all his training, Yuri had never killed anyone before.

 

* * *

 

Yuri woke to a gentle hand stroking through his hair.  He lifted his head, blinking slowly at J.J.  J.J. was smiling something soft and gentle.  He kept his hand where it was, a warm weight atop Yuri’s head.

“You’re awake,” Yuri mumbled, sitting up.  “How are you feeling?  Is your head alright?”

“It’s fine,” he assured him.  “I’m fine.  Embarrassed, mostly.”

“You should be,” Yuri said.  “I had to finish the bout for you.”  He froze, grimacing at the reminder.  J.J.’s hand took one of his.

“How did it go?  May I assume you won?”

Yuri held J.J.’s hand between his.  “I did.”  He couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes.  If Altin had gotten his way, J.J. would be—

“Then why do you look so troubled?”  J.J. placed his other hand on top of Yuri’s.

“He was cheating,” he said.  “And not just by striking you.  His sword was sharpened and…”  Yuri finally met his eyes.  “He poisoned it.”

J.J.’s eyes grew wide.  “And you dueled him anyway?”

“I didn’t know about the poison.”  Yuri rubbed his thumb over the top of J.J.’s hand.  “I took his spare sword, and we dueled to first blood.”

J.J. sat up.  “Then he—?”

Yuri nodded.  “He’s dead.”

“How are you feeling?”  J.J. cupped his cheek.  “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t feel guilty, I don’t think,” Yuri said.  “He would have killed you.  If you’d let up for even a moment…”

“But I didn’t, and he didn’t.”  J.J.’s thumb stroked beneath his eye; Yuri leaned into it.  “I’m so glad nothing happened to you.”

Yuri let his eyes close.  “He wouldn’t have hurt me.  I think at that point, he knew what was going to happen.  He died with some honor.”  He sighed.  “I don’t really want to talk about this right now.  I’d rather talk about whether or not you technically earned your prize.”

When Yuri opened his eyes, J.J. looked fond and teasing.  “I did technically win, didn’t I?”

“ _Technically_ , I finished the bout for you.”

“But surely Altin was disqualified after such a nasty move?”

“He was.”  Yuri stifled his smile.

“So, then, I was the victor by default and with a 2-0 lead.”  J.J. smirked.  “Wasn’t I?”

Yuri got up from his chair to sit on the side of J.J.’s bed.  “I suppose you were.”  Yuri cupped J.J.’s cheek, letting himself smile when he leaned into the touch.  “What was it you wanted from me again?”

“I believe I asked you to kiss me.”

Yuri leaned in, pausing a breath away.  “So you did.”  He tilted his head, letting their noses brush as he closed the little distance between them, sealing their lips together.  He kept the contact firm, but brief, pulling back to look at J.J.

Before he could get very far, J.J.’s hand cupped the back of his head and drew him back, kissing him again, longer than the first.  Yuri tilted his head, hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his neck, rubbing over the short hair along the back of his head, soft like velvet beneath his fingers.

J.J. pulled away again, pressing in at a new angle.  Yuri’s lips parted in anticipation.

The bedroom door opened.  Yuri tore himself away, trying to seem as if he’d been sitting by the bed the entire time, wholly innocent.

“King Nikolai bids you both come to dinner,” the servant said.  Yuri didn’t turn around.  “Unless, of course, King Leroy is still unwell?”

“I’m feeling much better, thank you.  We’ll be with you shortly.  I need only fetch my coat.”  J.J. was smiling broadly as if they hadn’t been a breath away from getting caught.

When the door shut, Yuri covered his face with his hands.  “You’ll be the death of me, Leroy, I swear.”

“Hopefully not for a long time yet,” J.J. said, laughing.  He kissed his cheek, lingering.  “I suppose we mustn’t linger here, or your grandfather will surely suspect.”

“Unfortunately,” Yuri mumbled.

“Then, you enjoyed the kiss?”

“If you have to ask…” Yuri peeked out at him from behind his fingers.  He hoped his smile was hidden behind his palms.

J.J. laughed again.  “Perhaps we could continue this another time?”

“Perhaps,” Yuri allowed, standing and turning to the door.  “But I make no promises.”

“Then I will,” J.J. countered.  “I promise you, I’ll kiss you again and again and again, until you’re asking me to stop.”

Yuri glanced at him over his shoulder.  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Your Majesty.”  Yuri let himself out before J.J. could figure out just what he meant.  He smiled to himself as he walked.

The door opened and shut in quick succession.  Hurried steps followed him.  “You _tease_ ,” J.J. hissed as he caught up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t, Yura.”  J.J. caught his arm with his, raising an eyebrow in lieu of asking permission.  Yuri settled his arm in the crook of his elbow in answer.

He felt… lighter, somehow.  Like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  He leaned ever so slightly into J.J.’s side, soaking up his warmth.  He would have to speak with his grandfather soon.

It was high time they ended their engagement.

 

* * *

 

“Grandfather,” Yuri hesitated in the study’s doorway, fingers clenching on the doorjamb.

“Come in, Yura.”  His grandfather smiled warmly.  “What’s the matter?  I wasn’t expecting to see you in here so soon after our last discussion.”

Yuri nodded.  “I…  The truth is…”  Yuri sat down on the other side of the desk, clasping his hands together.  “I think…”  His grandfather watched him patiently.  “I think we should formally announce my engagement to J.J.”

His grandfather beamed.  “This is wonderful news, Yuratchka.  We can make the announcement at the ball.  It will be a proper celebration!”  He stood, pressing his hands together.  “You and J.J. must dress to match, of course.  We’ll send out an order for new clothes for you both.”

“Grandfather—!” but he was already gathering things from his desk, writing things down.  Yuri could feel the heat of his blush in his ears.  Matching clothes?  Really?  The colors would likely be the only way their coats differed, knowing him.  His grandfather now occupied, Yuri left quietly.  He should probably warn J.J.

As he rounded the corner, he crashed headlong into a firm chest.  Hands steadied him by the shoulders.  The odds were ridiculously slim, but when he looked up, sure enough, J.J. was smiling down at him.

“I was just thinking about you,” Yuri said, unthinking.

J.J. grinned.  “Were you now?  What a coincidence!  I was just thinking about you!”  He slid his hands down Yuri’s arms, catching Yuri’s hands in his.  “I know we saw each other this morning, but I’ve missed you.  You ran off in such a hurry after breakfast.”

Yuri rolled his eyes.  “Needy.”  Still, it was all Yuri could do not to smile.  “I was just speaking with my grandfather.  We’re going to be fitted for new coats soon.”

“Oh?  What for?” J.J. asked, swinging their hands between them.

“For the ball,” Yuri said.  “Grandfather wants us to coordinate, since we’re to be wed.”

“Oh, well, that makes sense.”  J.J. smiled.  Yuri smiled back, waiting for him to consider what he’d said, waiting for him to make the connection.  “Wait, we’re to be—you mean?”

Yuri nodded, his stomach fluttering.  “Assuming you’ll still have me.”

J.J. released his hands only to pull him into a tight embrace, arms warm around him.  Yuri tucked his face against the side of J.J.’s neck, breathing him in.  “Of course I’ll have you,” J.J. mumbled into his hair.  “Only a fool would refuse you.”  He pulled back, cupping Yuri’s cheek.  “Yura, I—”

“Oh good, you’re both here,” King Nikolai said.  Yuri jolted guiltily in J.J.’s hold.  “I need you both to report to the tailor.  We need to double check your measurements.”

“Of course, sir,” J.J. said, stepping away.  Yuri missed the heat of him immediately.

Unfortunately, after their fittings, J.J. and Yuri were separated.  He’d forgotten in all the excitement, but he had a lot of duties to attend to surrounding the coming gala.  And now with their impending engagement, it felt like there was even more to take care of.  J.J. was frequently called away on business as well.  Yuri suspected he'd been putting off work in order to spend time with him.

J.J. looked like he wanted to tell him something, but they always seemed to be around other people, unable to steal even a moment of privacy.  Yuri suspected they were all serving as belated chaperones, making sure they didn’t get up to anything now that they were both finally on the same page.  He and J.J. might have neglected to mention that they'd already kissed, but he suspected most people in the castle already knew.

Even with the chaperones, Yuri wished he and J.J. could kiss a little, nothing too hot and heavy.  At least, not in front of other people.  With the way J.J. looked at him sometimes, he was almost certain he shared the sentiment.

Lilia was far too busy to chaperone them, so they couldn't dance, regrettably.

They were, however, able to spar exactly once, watched over by Yakov in between his other duties as Guard Captain.  They probably should have dueled, instead of practicing hand to hand.  When they ended up on the ground, Yuri straddling J.J. with his hands on either side of his head, their faces inching closer and closer, sparring was immediately forbidden as well.

Yuri could still feel the heat of him if he focused.  He tried not to; it was bad for his concentration, among other things.

 

* * *

 

Yuri fixed his collar, hands shaking with nerves.  He hadn’t been able to see J.J. at all for the final week of preparations, outside of meal times, and even then, they were never quite able to speak to each other properly.

It felt like the longer Yuri spent unable to see or speak with J.J., even after spending so much time with him, the more he _wanted_ to see him.  Sometimes it was all he could think about, the steady warmth of him at Yuri’s side, the strength of his hands, the softness of his mouth…

Yuri shook himself.  He was going to have to keep it together.  There was every possibility they could manage to sneak into the gardens during the party.  Yuri bit his lip, fixing his collar again.  He tugged at his hair, frowning at the length in the mirror.  He needed a haircut, but the banquet was about to begin.

Yuri glanced over his ribbons, brushing his hand along the satin.  One of them would do fine for keeping his hair out of his eyes.  He was wearing dark blue with gold detailing.  J.J. matched him perfectly in style and detailing, though his coat was of course in red.  Yuri fingered the edge of one of his lesser used ribbons, a bold and shiny red, the same shade as J.J.'s coat.

Face hot, Yuri tied his hair back, allowing the shorter strands to frame his face.  He could see the ribbon against his neck, stark against his pale skin.  He took a long breath in, letting it out slowly.

There was a brisk knock at his door.

With a final look in the mirror, Yuri turned away.  “Enter.”

Mikhael let himself in, bowing deeply.  “Your Highness, His Majesty has sent me to fetch you for dinner.  The guests have begun to arrive.”

“Thank you.”  Yuri hesitated only for a moment.  “How do I look?”

Mikhael gave him an assessing look, eyes lingering briefly on his neck.  He smiled.  “King Leroy is a very lucky man.”  Yuri returned the smile, some of his tension easing.

Yuri sighed.  “I've missed him, Mikhael.”

"I'm sure you have," Mikhael laughed, waving Yuri out the door.  “Don’t worry, sir, no one notices people running off together at these big parties.”

Yuri’s face felt hot; he kept his gaze resolutely forward.  If he didn’t look at Mikhael, he might not be able to tell that Yuri was thinking of doing just that.  Judging by the way Mikhael was smiling, Yuri wasn’t so lucky.

 

* * *

 

Yuri’s hands were shaking again; he tucked himself in a corner to watch the crowd filter into the ballroom.  The dresses and coats were all magnificent, of course, and the chandelier was lit to its brightest, lending the room an unparalleled radiance.

Yuri could hardly remember dinner.  J.J. was seated just too far for Yuri to speak with him.  He could remember staring at him for most of dinner, J.J.'s eyes frequently meeting his, and he was fairly certain that everyone around him had been hiding their smiles and laughter in their dinner.

He distinctly recalled the grand duchess saying, “Aw, to be young,” with such fondness that he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed.  She’d proceeded to tell him downright scandalous stories of her own youth from when she was courting her late husband.  Yuri tried not to think about his courtship with J.J. and failed.

“Might I request the honor of the first dance, Your Highness?”

Yuri spun, torn from his recollection, and took J.J. in with a slowly spreading smile.  “Oh, I don’t know,” he teased.  “I believe I’m already engaged.  Twice over, even.”

J.J. laughed, bowing as he took Yuri’s hand.  He brushed his lips over his knuckles, unfortunately covered by gloves.  Even so, the warmth of his hand, the light pressure of his lips, took his breath away.

“Yura, I’ve been dying to tell you all evening: you look,” he trailed off, eyes sparkling as he shook his head with a small laugh, “simply stunning.”

“You look nice, too,” Yuri allowed, turning his face away, playful.  J.J. straightened, pulling him closer.  The heat of him was intoxicating.

“Come now, Yura, you can do better than that.  It hasn’t been that long, has it?” J.J. asked, bowing his head and lowering his voice.

“Fine,” Yuri sighed.  “You look handsome, J.J.  Dashing, even.”  He looked better than anyone else in the room, drawing attention with the red of his coat and the breadth of his shoulders.  He stood tall and proud, regal and entirely too charming for his own good.

“There now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” J.J. teased.  He pressed a hand to Yuri’s cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear.  As he did, his eyes dragged down.  “What’s this?  Yura, are you…”

Yuri met his eyes, ignoring the blush flaring up.  “Am I what, J.J.?”

“I always knew red would be a good color for you.”  The way J.J. was looking at him made Yuri think longingly of the isolation of the garden.  He took a shuddering breath in; whatever cologne J.J. was wearing smelled amazing.

“We should take our places,” Yuri mumbled, eyes on J.J.’s mouth.  “The dance will start soon.”

“Of course,” J.J. agreed, not meeting his eyes either.  His hand was still on Yuri’s cheek.  “We’ll be missed if we don’t dance at least the first waltz.”

“Probably a handful of sets, just to be safe.”  Yuri leaned closer, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet.  “But then, we could…”

“We wouldn’t be gone long, of course,” J.J. agreed.

“We’d only miss a set or two.”  They were only a breath apart.

J.J. removed his hand and took a step away, coughing discretely, his cheeks red to match his clothes.  The gold caught in the light as he moved.  “Shall we?”  He offered his arm.

Yuri took it, licking his lips.  He clenched his fingers around J.J.’s arm, leaning into his side.  “I’ll follow you.”

J.J. took a shaky breath before he steeled himself, his stride turning long and purposeful as he led them to the dance floor.  Yuri stood straighter, sweeping through the crowd at J.J.’s side.  As they took their places on the dance floor, other couples quickly followed suit, the orchestra readying themselves to begin.

The first bars rang out, stragglers hurrying into position as the clear, sweet notes hung over the assembly.  Yuri relaxed, looking up to meet J.J.’s eye.  He was smiling, some emotion Yuri couldn’t identify shining out from his countenance.  And then, with a breath, they both spun into motion.

J.J. steered them through countless couples whirling around them with ease.  “I’ve been dying to talk to you all week, but now that I finally can, I can’t remember everything I wanted to tell you,” J.J. said, effortlessly leading them away from an oncoming couple.

“Then I’ll start.”  Yuri licked his lips.  “I want to spar again soon.  We agreed two out of three, but we were cut short after only a single bout.  That hardly seems fair to you.”

J.J. laughed.  “You’re full of surprises today, Yura.”  He twirled him playfully, pulling him even closer, until they were pressed nearly flush together.  Yuri watched J.J.’s mouth, head spinning with the proximity.  “We may have to wait until we’re married before they let us spar again, after the way we left off.”

“That’s likely for the best,” Yuri allowed.  “No one will be able to stop us, and we won’t need a chaperone then.  We could do... whatever we liked.”  Yuri watched J.J. swallow.  "It could lead into  _anything_ ," he said, eyes on J.J.'s mouth now.

“Yura," J.J. breathed, voice tight.  Color rose high in his cheeks.  "You're going to be the death of me,” he complained.  “Have a little compassion, won’t you?  I’m only a man.  There’s a limit to what I can handle.  Putting those images in my head is _cruel_.”

Yuri frowned at him, bemused.  “What do you mean?”  But as they made another turn, Yuri got his answer.  “Oh,” he said, eyebrows raising.  He tried not to smirk, but wasn’t sure he entirely succeeded.  “Really?  Just from that?”  Yuri was not going to tell him that he'd left some of their dates feeling similarly keyed up.

J.J. blushed enough to reach his ears.  “It’s been a long week.  Is there something else you want to talk about?  Something less… perilous?”

J.J. led them on a wide sweep of the ballroom, passing quickly from one end to the other before returning to the center.  With one turn, J.J. led them close enough that Yuri could feel fabric just touching his leg.  Yuri thought back on the previous week, looking for anything that stood out without being too risque.

“My grandfather has started leaving papers lying around,” Yuri said, obliging.  “Have you noticed?”

“I’ve noticed the papers, but not what was on them.  Should I have looked after all?  I thought it might be rude.”  The tension in J.J.'s shoulders eased.

“The papers I’ve seen had flowers and color palettes on them.  One of them had several kinds of rings.”  Yuri let himself smirk when J.J. gaped.  “You really didn’t look?”

“No.  I think I might count myself lucky there,” he laughed.  “I admit, that part of _this_ is rather out of my comfort zone.  As long as you’re there, I’ll have everything I need.”

Yuri was not going to kiss J.J. in the middle of a waltz.  He was going to exercise restraint.  He was a prince, and he would act accordingly.

“Then you won’t mind if I choose some… untraditional things?  Particularly, say, flowers?”

“Yura,” J.J. said softly, “any flowers you want are more than fine by me.  I only ask that you let me pretend to help make decisions.”

Yuri laughed.  “Is there nothing you’d like to decide on?”

J.J. bit his lip.  Yuri licked his.  “Would you be willing to leave the rings to me?”

“Of course.”  Yuri paused as J.J. spun him under his arm.  “You may want to check in with my grandfather.  Like I said, he’s been leaving hints.  I think he might want one of us to ask him his opinion or something.”  He rolled his eyes.  “As if he won’t be planning it all with me and… your mother or father?”

“My mother, yes, I’m sure she’d love to be included if you don’t mind terribly.”

“My only sticking points are the flowers and the groom.”  Yuri smiled.  “As long as those are correct, I can’t imagine having a problem with anything they decide on.”

J.J. beamed, lifting him into their next turn, laughing with delight.

From there, Yuri hardly knew what they talked about.  Between dances, they spoke with other couples, accepting congratulations and well wishes; J.J. periodically exchanged gossip.  King Nikolai stopped by with the grand duchess, smiling widely at them and exchanging knowing glances.

Lord Georgi and his newest intended swept by them with exuberant congratulations.  Yuri rather thought that this young lady might just be the one.  She looked at Georgi as if he hung the moon, even as he began to wax poetic about love and marriage.

As they made their rounds, Yuri startled, gaping as someone he recognized stepped out of the crowd, an unfamiliar man on his arm.

J.J. leaned down.  “Do you know him?”

“Do you remember Yakov, Captain of the Royal Guard?” Yuri asked.  “That’s his _son_.”  There was no mistaking his silver hair or mischievous smile.  “He ran away from home a couple years ago.  Yakov was in touch with him, last I heard, but I haven’t seen him since.”

“Well, the man he’s with is the younger son of the Katsuki family, Katsuki Yuuri.”  J.J. hummed to himself.  “There were rumors that the younger had married, but I wasn’t sure what to make of them.  It looks like he eloped after all.”

“With _Victor_?” Yuri asked, still gaping.  “Victor married _royalty_?”

“Looks like it.”  J.J. leaned into him.  “Unless the lovesick expressions and rings are not to be believed.”

Yuri shook his head.  “I am not getting drawn into conversation with him yet.  We can talk to him later, _come on_ ,” he mumbled, tugging a laughing J.J. back into the crowd.

After nearly two hours, Yuri finally managed to sneak them out of the ballroom and into the gardens.  He ignored the other couples on their way to the hedge maze or the roses, instead taking J.J. straight back to the seclusion of his wildflowers.

Out of sight and earshot of the other couples, Yuri let himself look at J.J.  The moonlight shone off the gold detailing on his coat, catching in the dark blue of his eyes.  Yuri’s lips parted on a breath.  J.J. took his hand.

“Yura, before I kiss you, I want to give you something.  Is that alright?” J.J.’s eyelashes were impossibly long, casting the slightest shadow over his cheek as his gaze turned lidded.

Yuri nodded, stepping closer.  “Of course.”

J.J. smiled, lifting Yuri’s hands to his lips.  “I was so worried, when we first met, did you know?  I hoped we might find some common ground, of course, but I was so afraid that you would hate me forever.”  Yuri opened his mouth, but J.J. shook his head.  “Please, let me finish, Yura.  My parents were insistent on a match between us.  As insistent, I’m sure, as your own grandfather.  I won’t say I was ever as against it as you were, but,” he sighed.  “You were so mean to me when we met that I was sure that any marriage between us would be a loveless one.”

Yuri winced; he knew now that J.J. hadn’t deserved the way he’d treated him when they met, but he also knew that nothing would have changed his mind, nothing but getting to know J.J. properly.  There would be time yet to make up for it, Yuri decided.  J.J. squeezed his hand.

“I have never in my life been so happy to be wrong.  You are enchanting and endearing in equal measure.”  His thumbs brushed over his knuckles, tracing the path of his lips.

Yuri thought the ‘even when you drive me crazy’ went implied.

“We have faced more obstacles than most courting couples do, but we’ve grown closer because of them.  Yura, I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you, in good times and bad.”  J.J. smiled softly, kneeling before him.  Yuri faltered, eyes going wide.  “I love you, Yuri Plisetsky.  And I cannot find the words to tell you how happy I am to be marrying you.”

Yuri’s vision blurred.  When he blinked, he realized he was crying.  He rubbed at his eyes quickly, hoping J.J. wouldn’t notice.

“Yura, my love, as per my country’s custom, would you do me the honor of wearing this ring until our wedding day?”

Yuri nodded, mute.  He stretched out the fingers of his left hand, watching as J.J. removed his glove.  The fabric tugged, but J.J.'s hand was warm where his glove met Yuri's skin.  Smiling up at him, J.J. slid a simple gold band with an inlay of garnet onto his ring finger.  The metal was warm from J.J.’s pocket.  The weight of it was grounding and exhilarating both.

Yuri dropped to his knees as well, gripping J.J.’s face and pulling him into a kiss at last.  He felt tears against his cheeks, but he was pretty sure he’d stopped crying.  He pulled back briefly; J.J.’s eyes were wet, but he was smiling.

His touch on Yuri’s cheek was tender, thumb brushing just beneath his eye.

“Don’t you start crying,” Yuri mumbled, bumping their foreheads together lightly.  He closed his eyes.  “I…  I also…”  Yuri swallowed hard, but he couldn’t quite get the words out.  When he reopened his eyes, J.J. didn’t seem upset.

Yuri kissed him instead, putting what he felt into every press of their lips.  He pushed a little at J.J.’s shoulder until he obligingly sat back.  Yuri settled himself on his lap, breaking the kiss only to find the best position.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week,” he whispered.  “We need to learn how to sneak around more.  I don’t think I can go without kissing you again until the wedding, J.J.  Not unless the wedding is tomorrow.”

J.J. laughed, cupping the back of his head gently.  “Don’t worry, my love.  We’ll find time.”  Leaning back in, J.J. kissed him sweetly, again and again until Yuri lost all track of time.  No matter how many times they kissed, no matter how long they took, Yuri never once thought of asking him to stop.

 

* * *

 

“Yuratchka, are you ready?” King Nikolai asked, waiting in the doorway.

Yuri gave himself one final look in the mirror.  His hair was plaited and his crown was on correctly with no chance of it falling off during the ceremony.  His new clothes were well-fitted and flattering.  His coat was a brilliant white with a line of gold buttons down the front, matching the gold of his epaulets.  He had worried about looking washed out, but his cheeks were flushed with color.

He turned to face his grandfather.  “How do I look?”

“Oh, Yuratchka,” he said, eyes taking on a tell-tale shine.  “You look beautiful.  If only your mother could be here.  She would be so happy for you.”  He offered Yuri his arm.  “I am so proud of the man you have become.”

Yuri took his arm.  “I love you, Grandfather.”

“I love you, too, Yura.  Now, let us go before we are late.”  He smiled, only wavering a little.  “I think your groom would be upset with me for keeping you too long.”

Yuri laughed.  “J.J. won’t care, as long as I show up.”

“That is because your J.J. is a romantic.  Our guests, on the other hand, not so much."  He winked.  "Now, we mustn’t keep everyone waiting.”  He patted Yuri’s hand, leaving his own atop it as they walked.

Yuri held tight to his grandfather’s arm, still not quite certain he wasn’t dreaming.  Months of planning had led to this moment.  Twice, Yuri had threatened to take J.J. and elope, and twice he’d been talked down.  When he saw the crowd arriving, he nearly ran before Lilia caught him and gave him a stern talking to.

Having so many people looking at him was very nearly overwhelming, but when his eyes found the altar, found _J.J._ , his nerves eased at once.  J.J. gaped at him, his lips parted on a gasp.  The dark red of his dress uniform looked as handsome as ever, medals of valor shining on his lapel.  His epaulets caught the light with the same gold as Yuri’s own.

When J.J. began to smile, wide and toothy and entirely too sweet, his grandfather began to walk, leading him down the aisle.  J.J.'s smile was like a sunrise, like coming home.  He could look at it for hours and never tire of it.

Later, Yuri would be hard pressed to remember much of the ceremony itself.  His grandfather pressed his hand into J.J.’s; the priest spoke at length about commitment and honor and duty.  And then, finally, he spoke of love.

“Do you, Yuri Plisetsky, take Jean-Jacques Leroy as your wedded husband, and promise him love, honor and respect; to be faithful to him, and not to forsake him until death do you part?” he asked.

“I do.”  Yuri smiled, even as it looked like J.J. might start to cry.

“And do you, Jean-Jacques Leroy, take Yuri Plisetsky as your wedded husband, and promise him love, honor and respect; to be faithful to him, and not to forsake him until death do you part?” he asked.

J.J. laughed, beaming and wiping his eyes with the edge of his sleeve.  “I do.”

Yuri stopped listening as he and J.J. took turns sliding the rings onto each others’ right ring fingers.  J.J. linked their hands together.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and husband.”  The priest smiled at them both, but Yuri could hardly pay him any mind when he was already looking back up at J.J.  “You may now kiss the groom.  Congratulations.”

Yuri pulled J.J. down into an ecstatic kiss, lifting up on his tiptoes to better reach him.  The resulting applause and cheers were loud enough that Yuri pulled away to breathe “I love you, J.J.” into the space between them.

J.J. seemed at a loss for words; instead, he dipped Yuri, kissing him again.  Someone in the audience whooped.  Yuri clung to him, trying not to laugh.  It was hard; he was just too happy.  J.J. lifted them back upright, keeping Yuri close, beaming at him with all the joy that Yuri felt.

“I love you, too, Yuratchka.”

**Author's Note:**

> I think this fic took me... 3 or 4 months to finally finish, and a lot of stuff didn't make it in! If you guys have any characters you're curious about, I'd be happy to tell you about them! And, as always, comments are encouraged and greatly appreciated! <3


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